Unwell
by Hypothetical Situation
Summary: Stella and Miles get lost in the forests of San Lorenzo once again. And Arnold is slowly starting to lose his mind. Songfic – ‘Unwell’ Matchbox Twenty. Warning: Character Death.


A/N: Hello again, readers! I am enormously happy that I finished this fanfiction. Before you begin reading, I have to warn you of the extreme angst that is soon to come. Also, I must warn you of _character death_, meaning characters will _die._ I know that's not a pleasant thought, but it has to happen in order for the story to make sense. Again, I am happy to announce the final draft of 'Unwell', based off of the Matchbox Twenty hit. So sit back, relax, and read!

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the _Hey Arnold! _series, including characters and setting. I also do not own the Matchbox Twenty song, 'Unwell'.

* * *

**All day staring at the ceiling,  
Making friends with shadows on my wall.**

The search had begun. From dawn to dusk, Arnold had several search parties scanning areas of San Lorenzo that he himself hadn't gotten to explore. _More people searching means more possibilities_, Arnold always thought to himself. Ever since he was a boy, he had always looked on the bright side of things, especially with situations concerning his parents.

Arnold was only a fifth grader when he had found out his parents survived the crash on that fateful day. They came out of the wreck without any major injuries. To add onto their luck, the scene of the crash was in walking distance to the village of the Green-Eyed People, Miles and Stella's original destination during their flight. Most of the items they had brought with them to help cure the sleeping sickness that took over some of the villagers were damaged or missing from the ruins of their plane. It took months to find similar objects to replace the previous ones, and after a long time of collecting, the infected Green-Eyed People were cured from the disease.

Without any means of communication to the outside world, Miles and Stella had no choice but to take refuge in the village of the Green-Eyed People. They prayed each day that somebody would be able to find their location and take them home to their little boy. Back in Hillwood, their son had just discovered the map that Miles had placed in the back of his journal just before he left the city with his wife. Arnold's grandfather, Phil, contacted the Hillwood Police Department immediately, informing them to get in touch with the sheriff down in San Lorenzo and form a search party.

It didn't take long to find the couple. The map contained the exact location and lead rescuers spot on. News of their rescue was passed back to the hometown, creating joyous celebrations and tears of happiness from locals. They arrived at the Sunset Arms boarding house a few days later, greeting their son for the first time in almost a decade. The newly connected family spent the next six years living at the familiar red boarding house, enjoying every minute they had together. One day, while conversing with his father at the breakfast table, he found out some surprising news – he and his parents were to move back to San Lorenzo. Miles and Stella both agreed that at the firm age of sixteen, Arnold was capable of taking on the dangers that may be presented to him in this different kind of setting. That month, the family left the city behind and settled into a completely new environment.

Arnold lay flat on his back atop his bed in the family's San Lorenzo home. His frazzled hair and clothes gave off his worried state of mind. Earlier that week, Miles and Stella left the house to visit with the Green-Eyed People once more, but did not return the next day like they promised. Arnold had searched the area in which they said they were headed, but to no avail. After days of looking, he gave in and informed the sheriff of the situation. So far, the parties have found no traces of the two explorers, but Arnold refused to give up. He wouldn't let them get lost again.

The twenty year old removed his right hand from his face, opened his eyes, and stared up at the ceiling above him. He had been in this same position for hours, waiting by the phone, hoping that somebody would call and reassure him that his parents were safe. Arnold began to stare at the ceiling more intently, imagining it as a blank slate where he could paint his world atop of. His creative mind did just that, playing out the most memorable scenes of his life. The visions of him with his parents were the hardest to go through. He glanced back over to the phone at his side. _Where are you, mom and dad?_

**  
All night, hearing voices telling me  
That I should get some sleep,  
Because tomorrow might be good for something.  
**

Arnold went back to visioning the pictures on his ceiling, finding that the distraction took his mind off of the stressful circumstances he was put into. After an hour or two, he decided to call Gerald and catch up with him, for old time's sake. Nobody in Hillwood knew about Arnold's parents' disappearance just yet, excluding his Grandma and Grandpa, so Arnold was sure to be free of the topic of his parents for the duration of the phone call.

It was nearly midnight when his conversation with his best friend ended, but Arnold felt wide awake. He rolled over in bed, attempting to close his eyes and fall into a deep slumber. However, his mind wouldn't shut off. The talk with Gerald diverted him from the recent events, but as soon as he placed the phone back on the receiver, a rush of memories flooded back into his brain. He couldn't help but feel even lonelier.

Around this time every night, he and his parents would take their trek up the staircase in their home, always after the routine family talk at the kitchen table. Then they would say their goodnights, and separate in the hallway into their respected rooms. Despite traditional 'talks at the table', where parents would plan everything, including the topics that were to be brought up, the decision to gather around the table was naturally put into place – Miles and Stella would come home from a day out in the forests, and plop down in the wooden seats. Arnold would eventually join them, chatting about his own day and what the next day would bring. This continued for nights on end and, ultimately, became a usual occurrence.

Arnold shook his head, forcing himself not to think about his parents while he was trying to fall asleep. He glimpsed at the phone once more, but found it no different than how he had left it. His hand reached over and pulled the phone off the receiver, feeling compelled to place it over his ear. He listened to the dial tone as it slowly faded away, a voice taking its place.

"Arnold…" the voice whispered from the other end of the line. He jerked the phone away from his ear, dazed and confused. _What the hell?_ Arnold gently placed the phone against his ear once more.

"Arnold…" the voice said once again. This time, it was clearer, and Arnold determined it was a woman's voice. "Please, sleep," it begged.

"…Who are you?" Arnold hesitantly asked. But the voice stopped speaking. "Hello? Are you still there? Hello?"

This time, a different voice came from the other end. It was a deeper tone, a man. "Arnold…" it echoed, "Everything's okay."

"Did you find my parents? Are they alright?" Arnold questioned into the phone. "Please, answer me. I need to know!"

Again, the man's voice whispered his name. Shortly after, the woman's voice echoed the man's, begging Arnold to get some sleep. Arnold's questions about his parents soon diminished, his mind trying to process who these people were and why they wanted him to go to bed. It didn't take long to figure out, though.

"Son…" the man's voice spoke, "Listen to your mother. Tomorrow will be better. Trust us."

"Dad…" Arnold whispered, tears forming in his eyes, "Dad, where are you? Please come home. Dad! Mom!" Tears were now rolling down the sides of Arnold's face, his voice shaking slightly after each sentence he spoke.

"You'll see us soon. We love you, Arnold." The voices ultimately stopped, leaving Arnold in a stupor. He hung up the phone, rolled over on his side, and hugged his stomach. His teary eyes closed slowly, and, following his parent's orders, he fell into a deep slumber.

**  
Hold on.  
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown.  
And I don't know why.  
**

Arnold awoke to some birds sitting on a tree branch outside his window, chirping a loud but catchy tune. His face felt odd, and as he moved a hand up to touch his cheek, he remembered that he had been crying last night while on the phone with…

He took a deep breath. Without letting another thought cross his mind, he shoved his body off of the bed, and made his way towards the bathroom. Going straight for the sink, Arnold turned the faucet, cold water spraying into the drain. He cupped his hands, placed them under the flowing water, and splashed his face thoroughly. His eyes moved upwards to look at himself in the mirror. Worry was definitely etched onto his face, but something else was clearly there. He couldn't put his finger on it, though.

His thoughts were interrupted by a quick knocking on the front door. Taking a hand towel with him, Arnold descended the stairs, wiping his face of water along the way. He draped the towel over his shoulder when he reached the door so he could easily open it and welcome the visitor into his home.

Eduardo stood in the doorway, his hat in his hands. The look on his face was pure sympathy, mixed with grief and sorrow. He raised his head from its downward facing position and looked Arnold straight in the eyes. "May I come in?" he said softly. Without hesitation, Arnold opened the door wider, allowing Eduardo to slip into the comfy home. He led the sorrowful man to the living room, watching as he placed the hat back atop his head and sat himself down on an armchair. Arnold quickly followed his lead, sitting himself in the couch adjacent to Eduardo's seat.

Arnold spoke first, "Eduardo, please. Don't torture me any longer. I have to know. Did you find them?"

Eduardo took a shaky breath, and nodded slightly. Arnold observed the man for a minute. His posture, the disheveled look on his face, each unsteady breath he sucked in…

"Eduardo…Are they dead?" he whispered. Eduardo took another deep breath, and after a moment's hesitation, nodded once more.

Arnold's world was at a complete standstill. He couldn't believe what was happening. _Mom and dad…dead?_ His mind ran through all of the times he spent with his parents, the good and the bad. One event passed by him that he couldn't help but question.

"But Eduardo, I just talked with them last night. They called on the phone. They said that everything was fine; that they were going to see me soon!" Arnold cried, hoping to make sense of what happened.

Eduardo looked confused, "Arnold, your parents…they've been dead for almost two days. We found their bodies deep in the forest. When we examined everything around the scene…all evidence points to the date of death two days prior to today." Raising himself from the armchair, Eduardo spoke in a soft voice, "Arnold, I'm truly sorry. I miss your parents just as much as you do. They were wonderful people. But…" He sighed, "Some officers are calling your grandparents and informing them of the news right now. They're most likely going to call you afterwards. I suggest that after you talk with them, you take a nap. It'll help ease your state of mind." Eduardo walked towards the door, opening it slowly. Just before stepping outside, he turned to Arnold, "I'm sorry."

Tears sprang to Arnold's eyes once more, engulfing his eyes in pools of sorrow. He positioned himself on the couch so he was lying on his side. Even with uneven breaths and flooding eyes, he couldn't help but ponder…_If they were dead two days ago…how did they call me last night?_

**  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.  
I know right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me.**

The phone could be heard ringing throughout the San Lorenzo home. _Mom or dad will answer it eventually,_ Arnold thought. But as the fourth ring echoed in the small living room, it was clear that he had to answer it himself. _I guess they're not home yet. _He sat up from the couch, stretched his arms and legs, and made a dash for the phone.

"Hello?" said his raspy voice into the telephone.

"Hey, Shortman," Grandpa greeted, but the once comforting nickname didn't hold the same meaning. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm doing fine," Arnold responded. "How are things up there in Hillwood? Everything the same as when I left it?"

"Arnold, are you feeling alright?" Grandpa questioned.

The blonde furled his eyebrows at the elderly man on the phone, "Of course I'm feeling alright. Why do you ask?"

Grandpa hesitated slightly. "You're just not…acting like yourself. Did…did Eduardo visit you today? Did he…tell you the news?"

"Yeah, he came over. I don't remember what he was talking about, though. He sounded sad. Anyway, my mind has just been fixed on mom and dad lately," Arnold answered.

"Oh. Well, Arnold, I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but…" Grandpa started, but was soon interrupted by Arnold.

"Stop, Grandpa. I don't want any bad news to ruin this day. I'm planning the perfect Welcome Home dinner for the two of them when they return from their trip. It is going to be so awesome," Arnold rambled excitedly.

Grandpa was taken aback. "Shortman, I think you should pack your bags and come back to Hillwood."

"What?" asked Arnold, "Grandpa, if I leave now, I'm not going to be able to plan my parents' Welcome Home party. They're expecting me to be here when they arrive. I can't let them down."

"Arnold. Listen to me. Pack your bags and take the next flight out. Eduardo will watch the house while you're gone," Grandpa said, his voice distinctly trembling.

Arnold sighed. "Okay, but you're the one paying for my airfare!" he joked, earning a small laugh from his grandfather. A click from the other end told Arnold that the old man had hung up the phone. Arnold did the same, and immediately ascended the stairs to pack his belongings.

**  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired.  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be...me  
**

With one suitcase in each hand, Arnold made his way out the door and towards a small airport where his flight would take off in less than an hour. Eduardo had called while he was packing, assuring him that the house would be kept clean and neat if his parents ever did arrive home during his departure. Arnold couldn't trust Eduardo's words completely, sensing that what he said wasn't the whole truth, but didn't question the old family friend. Eduardo suggested that Arnold bring everything he owned. Arnold laughed at the local, saying that he wouldn't need much if he were to return to San Lorenzo a few days later.

As he was traveling along the crowded village where he resided for the past four years, he noticed some of the villagers were whispering to each other, pointing their fingers at him every once in a while. Ignoring the mysterious act, he continued his walk towards the building. All of the sudden, he felt a tiny tap on his back. A little boy of about five stood behind him, his eyes welling up with tears. Arnold crouched down so he was eye level with the boy, and asked what was wrong.

Instead of answering the question, the boy threw his arms out and hugged Arnold with force. Arnold was taken aback by this sudden display of affection. As the two pulled away from each other, the boy spoke something so quietly that Arnold had to strain himself to hear it. "I miss them, too," he had said.

Before Arnold had time to question the little boy, he had run away towards a small hut, tears visibly forming in his eyes. Arnold watched the small boy, confused about the words he had spoken to him. Straightening up, he picked up his suitcases that had fallen to the ground during his interaction, and entered the airport.

For such a small airport, there seemed to be a large number of people inside. Everywhere Arnold walked, more people were emerging from gates and stores, adding on to the population. As he reached his gate, Arnold felt extremely overwhelmed – not only because of the amount of people, but because of the locals who were sending glances and sorrowful expressions towards him. He didn't know why, but each time he locked eyes with a resident of San Lorenzo, Arnold felt like running up to them and crying on their shoulder. Shaking his head at his stupidity, he sat in an unsteady chair that faced a window, with a view of all the planes taking off. Past the runways, he could see some of the most memorable sights that San Lorenzo offered.

Arnold spoke towards the distance, "Don't worry, mom and dad. I'll meet up with you soon. I didn't forget about you."

**  
I'm talking to myself in public,  
Dodging glances on the train.  
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me.  
I can hear them whisper,  
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me.  
Out of all the hours thinking,  
Somehow I've lost my mind.  
**

The flight to Hillwood was very quick to pass; Arnold had slept for most of the trip. When he exited the aircraft, he did not recognize any of his surroundings. So he called his grandfather and asked for directions. "Oh, I completely forgot that the airport is at the other end of town. The fastest way here is to take the train," Grandpa explained.

Arnold had to ask around a bit, but soon found the location of the train station. He entered the building, and when he approached the ticket booth, he instinctively asked for three tickets for the two o'clock train.

"Sir?" said the man operating the booth, "I'm going to need to see some identification."

"Oh," Arnold replied, pulling out his wallet and showing the man his driver's license, "Here."

"Where are your other two passengers? I'm going to need to see some identification from them as well," commented the man.

Arnold nodded, then, speaking to the air beside him, asked, "Dad, I need your license. Mom, yours as well."

The man behind the booth looked skeptically at Arnold. "Sir? There is nobody next to you..." A small silence fell between the two men. "I'm going to have to ask you to board the train and let me help the next person in line," he said, handing Arnold one ticket.

Arnold turned back towards the man, with a slight smile on his face, and took the stub of admission. Without another glance toward the space he was referring to as 'mom' and 'dad', he walked in the direction of the awaiting train.

Once inside the train, Arnold felt all the eyes of the already seated passengers fall on him. The riders watched as he turned his head outside the train and used his hand to motion for somebody to follow him. As he took a seat near the doors, the surrounding crowd noticed how he left two places beside him empty, and continued muttering to himself. They also noticed that nobody had followed him when he entered the train, despite his previous beckoning.

Despite the short ride through town, Arnold found the trip memorable. He talked with his parents the whole time about his childhood and beyond. His parents told him about the adventures they took together before he was born. They even shed a few tears as the conversation took a turn south, talking about the horrible departure Miles and Stella had to take from their son to save the Green-Eyed People many years ago. Before long, Arnold found himself stuck amidst a crowd of people, ready to exit the train.

Arnold walked the short distance to the Sunset Arms boarding house. Each step he took was like a five pound weight added onto his shoulders. _Why did I leave mom and dad behind? They were expecting me tonight for dinner. _As the red house came into view, he was surprised to see two figures standing on the front steps. He squinted his eyes to further examine the couple. One of them was tall and adorned the same shade of cornflower hair that Arnold himself had. The other was shorter – a female, maybe? – and had brown waves of hair framing her face. The closer Arnold got to the two, the faster he realized who they were.

"Mom! Dad!" he cried, and began sprinting towards the steps in which his parents awaited him. His footsteps were light, but still made loud thumping noises on the sidewalk as he progressed. The children playing nearby stopped their games and watched the scene in amusement, where as the older adults working in the shops stood still and stared at Arnold in confusion.

The two figures turned towards the boy as he approached the boarding house. Both of them had worried looks on their faces, but Arnold shrugged it aside, not dwelling on the fact. He sprang up the stairs and immediately found himself in the arms of his father. Arnold squeezed him gently, resting his head on the man's chest. Soon after, he turned towards the woman figure, pulling her into a soft hug. As he stood there, his mother in his arms, an unexpected voice began to say his name.

Arnold lifted his head from the frail woman, an astonished look on his face. Spinning his head towards the male presence, he was surprised to find his grandfather standing there instead of Miles. Looking back at his grandmother, he found that she was just as shocked as he was, though not for the same reason. Without another glance at the elderly couple, Arnold dashed straight through the front door as fast as he could. _What's wrong with me?_

**  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.  
I know right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me.  
**

Along with the incident that happened the first day Arnold arrived home, Phil and Gertrude noticed many strange things about the boy. Everywhere he went, he was always muttering to himself about the past, or making idle conversation with nobody in particular. They never mentioned the tragic fate of his parents; Eduardo had taken care of that himself. But as the days gave way, Arnold began to act more and more strangely, causing his grandparents to worry.

The first few nights had been tough for Arnold. He tried reaching his parents back in San Lorenzo, but nobody would answer the phone. Frustrated, he'd slam the phone back on the receiver. Afterwards, he would reassure himself that he'd see them in a few days anyway, upon his arrival back in San Lorenzo. However, each time he made a move to pack up his things, his grandparents found a way to convince him to stay longer than originally intended. Personally, Arnold found it annoying.

On the sixth night of Arnold's visit, he was asked to set the dinner table. Even though it had only been four years, all of the boarders who lived here when Arnold was a child had moved out and found their own places. Ernie Potts moved out of state and married one of his childhood friends he bumped into a few years earlier. Even with a child, he still continued to work for a demolition company without any injuries thus far. Mr. Hyunh moved into his own house with his daughter, Mai, and wrote to Arnold frequently. Oskar and Suzie Kokoshka had a baby Oskar of their own, and moved into a bigger place to support their growing family. Phil kept a sign out front, offering rooms for rent, but no candidates have given interest to the offer.

With just the three of them living in the house, dinner was small but hearty. Gertrude still had her crazy side, despite her old age, and was still a marvelous cook. Phil was a shocking 92 years old, successfully beating the family curse of living only till the age of 91. Another surprise was that he had the same bill of health as when he was 81. Dinner was never short of fun at the boarding house.

When Phil and Gertrude stepped into the dining room with dinner in their hands, they were surprised to see that Arnold set five places on the table, dishes and all. He was sitting at one of them, smiling slightly at the extra settings. Gertrude looked over at Phil with a worried expression. Phil mirrored her, but made no comment until dinner was already underway.

"Arnold," he started, as the boy loaded a pile of peas onto the plate beside him, "Is someone joining us for dinner?"

Arnold looked up from his previous ministration, and shot his grandfather a look. "Grandpa, don't be rude," he said sharply, "I don't want them to feel left out, so I'm setting their places at the table for when they arrive here."

Gertrude sucked in a deep breathe, and Phil commented, "Arnold, your parents aren't going to be joining us. They're…gone."

Arnold stopped filling his parents' plates with food and turned his attention towards the old man. "What?" he whispered.

"We thought Eduardo had already told you. When we talked to him a few days ago, he said he told you everything before you arrived. We…" Phil sighed, "Your grandmother and I are worried about you, Arnold."

"No!" Arnold screamed, standing up from his seat at the dinner table, "That's not true! They're not dead! You're lying!" Throwing his napkin on his chair and disregarding the rest of his dinner, Arnold stormed out of the dining room with tears glistening in his eyes. After the slam of Arnold's bedroom door echoed throughout the house, Gertrude broke down into small sobs, leaning onto Phil for support. Phil comforted his wife, all the while wondering what had happened to his grandson.

**I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired.  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be.**

The next morning, Phil ascended the attic stairs towards Arnold's bedroom, still concerned about the boy's behavior. He raised one wrinkled hand to knock on the door, but a voice from inside stopped him. "They don't know what they're talking about," he mused to himself. Phil, thinking Arnold was still upset about last night's argument, decided to leave him alone for a while longer while he straightened things out. As he turned his back towards the bedroom door, the same voice stopped him in his tracks. This time, it seemed like he was talking to another being in the room, but Phil knew for a fact that no guests had stepped foot in the house since Arnold came back. He decided to listen in to the conversation to further understand what was going on.

"I know the truth about you. I know exactly what's going on. They just don't care enough to see it," he continued. There was a small silence following this outburst, but it was soon broken, "I know they're worried about me. But if they would just open their eyes, they'd see that their own son is alive and well. That their grandson isn't crazy." Again, silence. Then, in whispered words, "I love you guys. I would never let anything happen to you."

Phil had heard enough. He trotted away from Arnold's door and searched the house for his wife. Together, they called the doctor and informed him of the recent happenings. The doctor agreed to examine Arnold the next day, not wanting to wait longer in fear of his condition worsening. Phil was to keep an eye on Arnold until the doctor arrived, noting any odd activity from the boy that could further explain his actions. Grudgingly, Phil obliged, watching Arnold's every move with hesitant eyes for the remainder of the day.

**  
I've been talking in my sleep.  
Pretty soon they'll come to get me.  
Yeah, they're taking me away.  
**

When the doctor showed up at the boarding house the following day, Arnold was furious. He yelled at his grandparents, telling them that he didn't need any medical help and that there was nothing wrong with his mental health. After this episode, he ran up the stairs and to his bedroom, where, once again, the echo of the bedroom door slamming against the threshold could be heard throughout the building.

"Well, he's obviously in a state of denial," Dr. Bateman explained. He, Phil, and Gertrude were stationed in the living room, quietly talking about his thoughts on the issue.

"What do you mean?" Phil asked.

"From what I've gathered," Dr. Bateman continued, "your grandson does, in fact, know about the death of his parents. His willingness to accept it, however, is another matter." Phil and Gertrude looked at each other in confusion, and motioned for the doctor to go on. "Each time Arnold is put into a new setting, his brain goes into overdrive, and offers new memories for him to process. This changes his state of mind, and erases any previous memories he obtained after the news of his parents was bestowed upon him." Again, confusion could be seen on both Phil and Gertrude's faces. Sighing, Dr. Bateman said, "In other words, he doesn't know what to think of the situation. One minute, he'll think his parents are dead, and the next, you'll hear him talking to his parents like nothing changed."

Finally understanding, Phil raised the question that was both on his and his wife's mind, "What do we do now?"

"Well, seeing the severity of your grandson's condition, I'd have to say that an asylum would be the best choice," Dr. Bateman replied.

Instantly, Phil and Gertrude rose from their seats. "What?!" they both exclaimed.

Dr. Bateman rose slowly, "I'm sorry. But it's the only way we can safely monitor Arnold and his behavior. The employers there will see to it that he is in the best of care. I will schedule his departure to the asylum as soon as possible." He began for the door.

Gertrude immediately started sobbing, and Phil had silently been given the job of informing Arnold of his removal. He had never in his lifetime had a more difficult task, and dreaded the moment from the very beginning. It was around dinner time that night that Phil had decided to speak up.

"Arnold?" he softly said across the table, "We need to talk. It's about…how you've been acting lately."

Arnold looked up from his plate and furled his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

Phil opened his mouth, ready to tell Arnold where he was being sent, but Gertrude's hand on his arm stopped him. With a very raspy voice, she said, "Sweetie, we're your grandparents. We've been with you for many years, and we can tell when something's bothering you. And, lately, you haven't been acting like yourself. That's why the doctor came here today, if you remember."

Once again, Arnold looked up from his dinner. "I remember. Grandma, Grandpa, I don't need any medical attention. I don't see why you brought him here."

Phil and Gertrude looked at each other. From the way he answered that question, he _didn't _seem like he needed any psychiatric help. His calm and collected manner was starting to confuse the couple. Phil hesitantly asked, "Arnold…do you know what happened to your parents?"

"Do I know?" Arnold began, "Of course I know! They're gone. They left me here all alone." His voice fell into a whisper, "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

Gertrude gently placed her hand over her grandson's. "Shh, it's okay, Arnold," she reassured him.

Arnold turned to the pair. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone right now. Please excuse me," he said as he stood up from his chair and walked towards the staircase, head hung low.

Phil and Gertrude obeyed his wishes, knowing that the boy was going through a lot of emotional stress. The next morning, after a very important talk with Gertrude, Phil decided to call up Dr. Bateman and notify him of the events that went on last night. "I'm telling ya, Doctor," he sighed, "He seemed perfectly fine last night; like any other child who had lost his parents."

"Phil," Dr. Bateman began, "Remember what I told you? This is how he is going to continue to act. No matter how normal he seems, the next time you'll see him, he will be in a completely different state of mind." There was a small silence while the doctor thought of the right thing to say. "Listen Phil, I know this sounds a bit crazy, but…I think that it would be best if we come by earlier than expected to take Arnold away, while he's in one of his 'spells'. It'll make examining him a lot easier. If you don't mind, of course."

"Whatever you have to do, Doc," the old man whispered, "Whatever you have to do to make him better."

After hanging up the phone, Phil's feet naturally gravitated towards his grandson's attic bedroom. As he reached the door, he had a feeling of déjà vu. The last time he walked up the attic steps, he found Arnold in his room, talking with his deceased parents. _I really hope all of this asylum junk works out for the best_, he thought, as he knocked on the bedroom door. A few moments later, he heard Arnold's voice from inside the room, whispering something in a rushed voice. His footsteps echoed as they bounced towards the floor, and in only a short time, the door opened to Arnold's happy face.

"Grandpa!" he exclaimed, "You'll never guess who's on the phone!"

Hesitantly, Phil peered into the room, as if looking inside would give him the answer. "I don't know, Arnold," he said, "Who?"

Smiling widely, Arnold replied, "Pick up the phone and find out for yourself!"

Phil carefully pushed past Arnold in the doorway. With Arnold bouncing behind him, he slowly paced towards the phone on the bedside table. His hand snaked out to grab the calling device and Arnold could tell he was shaking. To ease his nerves, Arnold plopped down on the bed and held Phil's other hand tightly. When Phil glanced in Arnold's direction, he was reminded of the hopeful little boy he knew years and years ago.

Holding the phone up to his ear, Phil listened intently. The blaring of the dial tone echoed in his head, causing him to blink in confusion. Putting the phone to his chest, he turned towards his grandson and questioned, "Arnold, who did you say was on the phone?"

"I didn't," Arnold responded with a laugh. "Would you like to know?" Phil's nodded and urged him to continue. "Well…I don't know how you wouldn't recognize the voice of your own son on the other line!"

In an instant, Phil threw the phone back on the receiver and rushed as fast as an old man could towards the door. Arnold reacted just as quickly, shouting, "Grandpa! What's the matter? Why did you hang up?"

Phil fiercely turned back to face Arnold, "What's the matter? _You're _what's the matter! I'm tired of dealing with your mood swings. Your parents are _dead_, Arnold. Dead. Kaput. Vamoose. You'll never see them again. _We'll _never see them again." His voice crackled from the yelling. "They didn't call you, and they never will. So _get over it_!"

Arnold rushed past his grandfather, shoving him to the side as he raced down the attic stairs. Phil could hear the bathroom door slam as he emerged from Arnold's bedroom. His face was full of regret and horror. _I can't believe myself..._, he thought, cautiously looking at the spot where Arnold ran to.

Inside, Arnold stood in front of the mirror, hands on either side of the counter, staring at his sleep-deprived face. Every night, he stayed up, waiting for his parents' nightly phone call. They would talk for hours on end, about nothing in particular. During the day, Arnold would think about them every moment, wondering when they would return home. And sometimes, they did, if only for a moment.

_Was it all just a dream? Am I really going crazy?_

His eyes wandered to the left of the sink, stopping at a familiar tool of his grandfather's. He eyed the pocketknife from afar with wonder. Breathing in deeply, he said in a shaky voice, "Mom. Dad. If you're out there, somewhere…give me a sign. Please." He waited a few moments, but nothing happened. "If you're alive, restrain me from picking up this object. Let me know, once and for all, the truth about things." With unsteady hands, he reached towards the knife slowly. As his fingers grazed the design on the handle, his head began to spin. He knew that God would never lie to him about his parents.

_So they're really gone, _he said in realization. _Why bother--_

Arnold's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing throughout the house. Hurriedly, he stuffed the pocketknife down his pants, securing it in place with the waistband of his boxers. His hands were out of his pants and casually at his side just as the bathroom door burst open. Four tall and bulky men stood in the doorway. Arnold knew immediately what they were here for. _Me._

"Arnold? We're here to take you away. You'll be safer with us," one of the large men said in a deep voice. All four of them entered the bathroom, hands outstretched towards Arnold.

"No!" he screamed loudly, "You can't take me! I won't go!"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you don't have a say in this," replied another one of the men.

"Don't fight it, Arnold," the third man said, "You have to come with us. You'll be much better off if you do what we say."

The fourth man spoke, "Now, Arnold, we can do this the easy way or the hard way – you can either follow us outside, or we'll have to take you by force."

Arnold looked around the bathroom, trying to find an escape. His only option was the window. As he turned to push the frame open, the four men jumped on him, restraining his arms from moving any further. "No!" he continued screaming, his face becoming a deep red. The men lead him out of the bathroom and down the stairs as Arnold's screams became louder. His arms and legs flailed recklessly as he was dragged out of the boarding house. Tears could be seen flowing down his face.

Phil and Gertrude watched the scene from the doorway. They both began silently crying as their only grandson was being tossed around. But despite Arnold's cries for help, Phil knew he had to go. He knew that being at the asylum would help Arnold in the long run; that he would be back to normal soon. He knew he had done the right thing.

Neighbors began peering out through their windows, curious as to what the commotion was all about. Their inquiries were met with Arnold's piercing screams, "Don't take me! Please! I'm not crazy! _I'm not crazy_! You have to believe me, please!" As the doors of the van shut, one last cry could be heard from the blond boy, "No! I can't go! You're taking me away from the only thing I have left!"

**  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.  
I know right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me.  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired.  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be.  
**

"Welcome. Can I have a name please?"

"Arno--"

"Phil? Gertrude?" a man in his early forty's questioned.

"Yes," answered Phil.

"Hi, I'm Ben. Come right this way. Your grandson has been sleeping for quite some time, but I'm sure he'll be wide awake once he knows you're here."

Arnold's grandparents followed closely behind the man. It was Arnold's third day at the asylum, and the couple wanted to surprise the boy with a quick visit. As they journeyed down the pale white hallways, the man informed the two of Arnold and how he was holding up at the asylum. It was a good five minutes before they reached the bolted door of Arnold's room.

"Rise and shine, Arnold! Your grandparents are here to see you," Ben said as he unlocked and opened the door.

Gertrude shrieked loudly and went to Phil's side, beginning to sob into the front of his shirt. Phil stared at the scene before him in horror, not believing what he was witnessing.

Arnold lay sprawled out on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body. Phil noticed his own pocketknife protruding out of Arnold's chest. Tears began falling down his bony cheeks. Despite his now cloudy vision, his eyes found a piece of crumpled paper in the boy's limp hand. By now, a swarm of people were gathered around the scene, all of them curious as to what the new inmate got himself into. Slowly, Ben entered the room and retrieved the message from Arnold's fingers. Phil and Gertrude followed Ben and, dreading the answer, asked what was written on the paper. Cautiously, Ben read…

**  
Yeah, how I used to be.  
How I used to be.  
Well, I'm just a little unwell.  
How I used to be.  
How I used to be.**

_I'm coming, mom and dad. I'll see you soon. Just like you promised._

**  
I'm just a little unwell.**

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I've never had dealings with asylums (knock on wood) or trains, so sorry if my interpretations are off. Also, I know that some of you might be disappointed about the lack of details near the end of the story. In my defense, I didn't want to get too graphic with the death scene. I would hate for our beloved Arnold to die. :( Anyway, thanks again for reading! Reviews are welcomed and appreciated.

Hypothetical Situation


End file.
